Absolute Garbage

One of the more distinctive bands to emerge from mid-90s modern rock cobbles together its best-known tracks for this terribly titled compilation.

For all the hoopla made about the overnight transition from late-80s hair metal to early 90s grunge and the alternative music boom, people forget how equally quickly mindless top 40 rock had its revenge. In 1994, artists like R.E.M., Morrissey, Beck, and Nirvana topped Billboard's Modern Rock Track charts for a significant number of weeks. Then, just one year later, walking time capsules like Live, Better Than Ezra, Goo Goo Dolls, and Silverchair supplanted them. Armed with three producer-musicians and a jaw-dropping frontwoman, Garbage hatched from that aesthetic fall-out, poised to lay claim to the rock-radio vacuum. Absolute Garbage neatly documents their attempted coup, reminding us that, for better or worse, Garbage were one of the most memorable rock bands in the initial post-grunge years.

Despite the number of grunge/goth markers they flaunted-- circles under the eyes, grainy, psychologically 'disturbing' videos, a self-flagellating ethos-- Garbage was undeniably pop from the onset. Absolute Garbage's tracklist and accompanying DVD attest to this, displaying how the band often milked five or six singles from an album and made the right music videos to sell them. Adhering strictly to chronological order, the album kicks off with the band's debut and best material. Techno-rock hybrids like "Milk" and "Vow" don't sound so novel today in a world Pro-Tooled to perfection, but the band's production troika, led by Nevermind and Siamese Dream svengali Butch Vig, deftly manipulated simple, catchy melodies and chord progressions to maximize their cross-genre fanbase. Bereaved Cobain apostles could rally behind "Only Happy When It Rains" for its woe-is-me irony and fuzzy bassline, while MTV-crazed teeny boppers simply couldn't get enough of Shirley Manson's girl group-friendly hooks.

Validated by their debut's success, Garbage cranked up the hit machine to 11 with Version 2.0, a blockbuster of an album that contributes five solid tracks here. Feeding off the late-90s success of the Chemical Brothers and Daft Punk, the band's pop songs received a house injection with "When I Grow Up" and "Push It" soaring over newfound glitchy percussion and robotic guitar effects. However, the real apex here is "Special", an infectious Pretenders ode able to stand on its own without the studio bells and whistles.

The turn of the century wasn't kind to the band, and the compilation's final third reminds us of this all too painfully. Creative juices clearly were in short supply by the 1999 Bond theme "The World Is Not Enough", a predictable "Goldfinger" permutation signaling the band's limitless affinity for big budget theatrics. When 2001's beautifulgarbage took a stab at more "experimental" territory-- a move Garbage weren't equipped for-- Manson ended up sounding as bubblegum as the girly-girl late 90s singers she distinguished herself from on earlier releases. "Cherry Lips (Go Baby Go)" and "Shut Your Mouth" ape Gwen Stefani hella bad, while "Bleed Like Me"'s boring acoustic guitar and sarcastic lyrics scream out Sheryl Crow.

Spanking new single "Tell Me Where It Hurts", swollen with canned strings and Manson's Chrissie Hynde affectations, provides little hope for a Garbage rebound. The band's seemingly desperate to reinvigorate their cultural cachet, but Absolute Garbage's latter half emphasizes the depths they've fallen. Even on the enclosed DVD documentary, the band never appears as profound or engaging as the peripheral artists (c.f. Dave Grohl, Trent Reznor) they bump elbows with. Still, even the most hardened underground scenester may be surprised at how many quality hits they'll recognize on this collection. Whether classified as an extremely accessible grunge band or an extremely demented S&M pop outfit, the band left an indelible mark on mainstream rock in an era when boy bands, latin pop explosions, swing revivals and other cringe-worthy fads were gobbling rock bands up. It's just a shame Garbage had to outlive their usefulness to such an aesthetically displeasing degree.